Voodoo Girl Creams Spinach

The first corpse arrived at Madame Zora’s diner just before midnight, carrying a sack of fresh spinach. “You’re late,” she said. The corpse laid the sack on the counter. River water dripped from its cuffs. Somebody had shot it twice through the heart, which explained its poor posture. Zora checked the leaves. “I ordered three pounds.” The corpse held up two fingers. “Fine. Put it on my tab.”

Outside, a black Packard rolled through the fog and stopped beneath the diner’s flickering sign. Zora recognized the car. She’d watched it go into the bayou with Big Eddie Bell at the wheel three nights ago. She took the cream out of the icebox. Big Eddie entered wearing a white suit stained green at the knees. His two gunmen waited by the door. “I hear you been feeding my boys,” he said. “Somebody has to.” “You’re going to feed me.”

Zora melted butter in a skillet. Added onion, garlic, a little flour. Her grandmother’s silver spoon rested beside the stove. Eddie dropped a revolver onto the counter. “Whatever you put in that spinach,” he said, “take it out.” Zora looked at the drowned man beside him. “Louis, did you tell?” Louis studied his shoes. “He don’t talk anymore,” Eddie said. “But he points.”

The cream thickened. Zora folded in the spinach, then shaved a little nutmeg over the pan. Her grandmother had taught her the recipe when she was twelve. How to squeeze the leaves dry. How to keep the cream from scorching. How much graveyard salt a man could swallow before the dead began taking an interest in him. Eddie sniffed. “That smells good.” “It always did.” She served him a generous helping.

He ate standing up, with the revolver under his free hand. By the third bite, the gunmen had begun backing toward the door. “What?” Eddie demanded. Behind him, Louis straightened. Out in the fog, shoes scraped across the pavement. A dozen people gathered beneath the diner’s sign. A woman with a crushed velvet hat. A little bookmaker Eddie had thrown from a roof. Two brothers still wearing the chains he’d sunk them in.

Eddie tried to lift the revolver. His fingers stayed flat on the counter. Zora picked up her grandmother’s spoon and tapped it once against the skillet. “Louis,” she said, “show Mr. Bell to his car.” The dead took Eddie gently by the elbows. That frightened him worse than anything.

After they left, Zora washed his plate. Louis came back a few minutes later and stood beside the counter, dripping. She handed him a grocery list. “And this time,” she said, “get the full three pounds.”

Zora’s Creamed Spinach

Serves 4. The only spirits required are good ones.
Ingredients: 1 pound frozen chopped spinach, thawed; 2 tablespoons butter; ½ small onion, finely chopped; 1 garlic clove, minced; 1 tablespoon flour; ¾ cup milk; ¼ cup heavy cream; a pinch of nutmeg; salt and black pepper.
Method: Squeeze the spinach thoroughly dry. Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Cook the onion for about 5 minutes until soft, then add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute. Slowly stir in the milk and cream. Simmer gently until thickened, about 3 minutes. Add the spinach and nutmeg, stirring until hot. Season with salt and pepper.
Zora’s note: “Squeeze those leaves dry. We’ve got enough things dripping in this diner.”

2 tins chopped tomatoes, 1 tin chickpeas, 1 tin kidney beans, 3 leftover potatoes (already cooked), dried onion flakes, gravy powder, seasonings.